


Believe Me When I Say

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Depression, First Time, M/M, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Transformation, Transformation During Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Hank have sex to lose themselves. It works a little better than expected. Then it doesn't work at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe Me When I Say

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 40fandoms

Hank had never done this before.

It was obvious from the way he was trembling, the clumsiness of his hands, the shyness of his movements. He had never touched somebody like this, certainly never another man. Might never have even thought of this before.

Charles supposed that he shouldn’t be letting it happen. It wasn’t going to help, how could it? Hank deserved a better first time, with someone who loved him, someone could make it as special as it should be. Not with a sad, lonely drunk who just didn’t want to be alone.

Charles never softened his own thoughts about himself. He knew what he had become. He loathed himself. Not that it seemed to help. But then, nothing had really helped for a while. He had given up on hoping something would help.

It was too late to stop now though. Far too late. Hank would be confused, distressed, blame himself for doing something wrong. He couldn’t do that to Hank. He’d already done so much wrong, he shouldn’t add to that …

And besides, he wanted it. He wanted it badly. He hadn’t had sex for what seemed like forever and Hank’s hands might be timid but they were also hot and sweaty and he was clutching Charles’s hips as though he didn’t quite dare go any lower and that made Charles squirm and his mouth was clumsy but hopeful too and the little sounds he was making ...

Being wanted had always been an aphrodisiac to Charles. It wasn’t the same now that he couldn’t float in Hank’s mind, feel that want and desire … but he was glad of that, of course he was. He didn’t want Hank’s doubts, his fears, he uncertainties. He couldn’t bear any more pain. He just wanted to enjoy this, the feel of Hank’s body against his, the muscles of his arms, his twitching legs, they way he kept moving his hips …

“C-charles … ”

Hank’s voice was thick, heavy. Charles kissed him; his mouth, his slightly stubbled cheek, his throat. He ran his hands over Hank’s shoulders, down his back. Hank’s skin was really quite smooth, surprisingly so really. Charles couldn’t resist scratching it a little, just a little. Hank’s groan was deep and needy and he very suddenly yanked Charles closer, pressing them tight together. Charles closed his eyes, letting the pleasure ripple through him. They were both still wearing their trousers and the feel of the cloth between them made it almost more intense, knowing that there was more, that they hadn’t reached the pinnacle of this yet, nowhere near and what did it matter that they were alone and there was nothing really to get up for in the mornings and nothing had worked and everything was hopeless …

“C-charles, please … ”

He kissed Hank again, fierce and hot, cradling Hank’s face between his hands. He rocked their hips together again, then pulled back enough to unfasten Hank’s trousers, pushing them down and then his own. Then he lowered Hank back down onto the bed, kissing and nipping. Hank’s breath was coming in frantic gasps, his skin sheened with sweat. When Charles took his erection into his mouth, Hank cried out, a hoarse little sound that made Charles itch to do more, to make Hank writhe and feel and _need_ …

He gently bit the inside of Hank’s thigh and Hank cried out. He was making sounds almost continually now; strange, rasping moans that were almost growls and Charles suddenly realised that he was fighting transformation, struggling to keep control of the human form that the serum gave him and it was strange but it made Charles _feel_ and before he could think, he was pressing against Hank, putting his mouth to Hank’s ear and whispering “It’s all right, it’s all right, you can do it, I want to see it, just let go … ”

Hank cried out and dug his fingers into the sheets. Charles kissed him and stroked and whispered “Please … ” and suddenly it was coarse fur under his fingers and sharp teeth against his mouth and then Hank had flipped him over and was on top of him, kissing, grinding, _gripping_ and his hands were clawed and he was all heat and want and animal desperation and Charles let it overtake him, let there be nothing but this …

The fur made it a rather strange experience. It really was all over Hank’s body, which wasn’t something that Charles had ever felt before. It was silkier lower down though, thinner, more gentle to feel. Nice. And gentle a contrast to all the biting and scratching. Hank made him bleed and he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.

He lay against Hank afterwards, his brain pleasantly numb from sex, from experience. He could feel Hank’s fur fading back to skin under his cheek. Could feel the soreness on his shoulders from Hank’s bites, the aches where Hank had scratched him. It would hurt lower too, he was sure of that, everything had been larger than he’d expected it to be and Hank had been gloriously rough but right now, it was oddly numb, he couldn’t really feel anything …

It suddenly hit him what had happened, a second before he suddenly realised the faint uneasy hum; Hank’s mind murmuring unhappily _shouldn’t have done this, it was so good but oh, oh God, I hurt him, he’s bleeding and I did that, why did he let me do that, I’m a monster, I’m a monster, I’m a monster …_

And then there were more voices, voices echoing around his brain: _I’m so scared/I’m alone/why doesn’t she love me/why doesn’t he understand/what if he never comes home?/they all hate me…_

“Oh God, _stop!_ ”

He clutched his head and Hank was there, Hank was holding him and helping him find his syringe and then the serum was in his blood and his mind was silent and his body hurt but that was okay, it was better, it was better than the pain in his mind …

“It’s okay,” Hank was saying soothingly, steadily. “It’s okay Charles, you’re okay, we’re okay … ”

It was a lie. Charles knew that. He’d heard Hank’s mind, heard the minds of everybody. Nobody was okay, nobody would ever be okay. You could just forget that for a little while sometimes, that was all.

But he wanted to believe it. He wanted Hank to promise that they were all right, that this had been okay. That he wasn’t scared. That neither of them were really alone. That everything was going to be all right.

Hank was stroking his hair. His fingers were reassuring. He was there. He understood. That was something.

That was all.


End file.
